Who Will Win
by MileauMay
Summary: What would have happened if James had survived that Halloween night? What would the wizarding world do to a man who almost lost everything? What would the man do? Follow the sotry and reminiscence of James Potter as he defeats the man who changed his life forever.
1. The Beginning

James stormed down the street quickly and efficiently moving by passing shoppers as if he wasn't there at all. The argument that he'd had with his wife made him both shaken and angered deeply. He just couldn't understand why she was so damn stubborn about _everything_.

All he had wanted was to get out of the house that they'd been forced into for months, and she had thrown a fit. It wasn't like he was suggesting going down to the Leaky proclaiming his allegiance to the Order of the Burning Chicken waving his nan's baffies around like a bloody nutter. He only wanted to go into London somewhere in the _muggle_ area for a muggle moving picture or to get a pint. Was that too much to ask?

He didn't think so… If only she could see that he was and tired of all the bloody hiding. He didn't feel like a marauder anymore. He didn't feel like himself… not anymore. He just didn't feel like he was worth all of it. People were dying to keep him safe. Marlene was gone, killed along with the family she was trying to protect. The Prewett lads had died so close to each other that it was impossible to tell who was avenging who. Even Sirius was putting himself on the line to save his raging, undeserving skin.

James threw himself into the park bench that he had been blindly passing by. He was a monumental coward.

"I'm so _bloody_ stupid." He wanted to howl at the wind. Admittedly, that was a very Padfootish type thing to do but still… James smiled. He could always count on his friend to cheer him up even if it was only in his thoughts.

Poor Pads, he hadn't seen him for months. He was too busy trying to avoid those murderers and their dark menace leader to come around to see the Potters. James couldn't even keep his friends safe anymore. He really wasn't a marauder anymore. James buried his head in his hands. He was a terrible person, a terrible friend, and a terrible father. He needed to go home. He needed to apologize. He'd nearly forgotten what they'd had a fight over anyway

He just laid there for a while. The wind rushed through his hair in a way that reminded him of Quidditch and the way that Lily smiled on their first date in August. He was going to go back eventually, but he thought he might enjoy the peace for at least a little moment. So he sat enjoying the peaceful moment that he'd gotten. Finally, he'd got up with his back winging terribly from the combination of not exercising in the pitiful excuse of a yard in Godric's Hollow and the park bench's wooden slats.

He did love his family. He whistled as he walked down the park's path to a little restaurant with an alley where he could apparate home to. The walk normally would have taken ages, but he didn't mind. He stopped to smile at the Chinese restaurant that he remembered at last. The Feng Shang Princess had nearly kicked Lily and him out after Padfoot had charged in demanding to know where James had stolen his styling gel. He loved that day. Everything had gone absolutely perfect, and the memory of it still made him smile.

James was ready to go home. He turned in smiled at the wind breathing in the smoke of the city and the aroma of the food as well as the well-known taste of lemon and ink that he could only assume he imagined because he knew it so well. With that, he vanished into the thin air…


	2. The End

…Only to reappear in front of his house. He was immediately struck by a feeling that something was wrong. In the air, there was a smell of smoke that was not remnant of the city but from a fire that smelled of ashes and death.

_He was here._

Suddenly, the world was spinning, and there was a loud noise around him as if a hundred people were all screaming at the top of their lungs deafening him with their noise. He hardly noticed. The noise was second to the spinning as if the world had stopped because he was running so fast that he had just swept past it.

The door had been flung open so violently that James was distantly surprised. Wasn't that _monster_ supposed to be clever? Why would he so blatantly show his presence?

James knew with a pang of disgust _why_ he had done it. He wanted the world to know that he had been there. That bastard had deliberately shown his coming to the whole word… and Lily.

He stumbled. _Lily_, oh God, Lily, had known. She must have known by the sound of destruction of the door. James felt sick. He vomited over the remnants of the floor, but he had to find them. He had to be with them. No matter what, he was going to die by their side.

James could only hope that the monster was still there so he could die cutting off his legs or head.

He ran or crawled or dragged himself upstairs sickened and dying. He couldn't feel anything. His family was _gone_. James never paused. He had to die. He had to. He had to. He had to. There was nothing left to live for. Nothing.

James could hear their voices. Harry's cries echoed in his ears. He would never hear it again.

Except, there was crying. Something up there was still alive.

They were still alive. James was so weak that he could only stumble and trip in his joy that the dark bastard hadn't succeeded. His beautiful wonderful family was still there. Never again would he argue or complain.

James finally made it to the room. Harry was in his crib and James in ecstasy. His feet led him to the crib of his own accord, but he tripped and stumbled.

He halfheartedly looked down to see what had so deterred him on his way to the crib and came in direct contact with a cold, white face.

His world which had been broken and repaired in the last twenty minutes shattered. The noise from before returned, and James collapsed. He rocked her back and forth while trying to awaken her with anything. He would do anything to bring her back.

It was too late. His Lily was gone. The world caved in a darkness that made everything else leave except for her still open eyes. Two sets of screams filled the air as father and son cried for the dead woman in his arms.


	3. Still Beating?

Sirius looked after his friend anxiously. The man had not shown any sign of improvement over the past weeks despite being surrounded by well-doers and happy survivors of the war. In fact, the only time that he had ventured out of his decimated home was to go to the trial (Sirius scoffed. Trial? If James hadn't been there they wouldn't even have given him one.) getting Sirius out of Azkaban and condemning the damn rat to a well deserved death when he was found. Other than that he seemed to be residing inside the remaining shell of his house. Namely, this consisted only of the basement.

Sighing he followed after his friend. The basement stairs wobbled ominously as he stepped on them. "Fortus", he muttered half-heartedly at them. James was being reckless living in this place. Half of the falling structure would probably crush him on accident. Sirius blinked. That would explain one reason why he still lived in this deathtrap.

Looking back at the stairs he whispered the spell again to make sure that at least one structure in this house couldn't be bloody well used by James to kill himself. Hurrying into the cave, as it was now known by the remaining sane Marauders, Sirius actively resembled a rather skinnier, Mediterranean-toned version of Molly Weasley. Anxiously, he sat in one corner with an eye planted firmly on his friend while the other focused on the child he was lifting out of a makeshift crib.

"Hello pup." The child giggled as he attempted to get some of the greasy hair dangling in front of its face. Sirius made a rather cross face as he considered that only two weeks in the prison had given him such disgusting locks in comparison to usual flowing mane. Harry sitting on his lamp echoed his look with his own special touch.

His eyes crossed rather lopsidedly, and his little fingers were still stuck in his gummy mouth but he had otherwise created a perfect replica of his godfather's face. It was bloody _priceless_.

Sirius burst out laughing as he clutched onto the chair with one arm and his pup with the other. Soon the laughter of the two filled the dank dungeon of the basement as they wore themselves out.

Neither noticed the man coming down the stairs with the camera until a bright light went off in front of their dazed faces. Again identical looks of agitation and confusion mingled on their faces leading to another round of laughter as Moony joined the gathering in the basement. Soon, however both men crinkled their noses.

"It would appear the young chap needs changing, old boy." Sirius stated in his most pompous imitation of Bartemius Crouch. He had recently become a popular figure of ridicule after being caught sending masses of people to jail without trials and furthermore harboring a fugitive son.

"Indeed you are, Messer Padfoot," Remus replied with a hardly straight face, "and as you are his _Godfather_, I believe you must change it." With this the man ran up the dilapidated stairs into safety.

Sirius cursed under his breath. Damn man had gotten away again. This was the twentieth time he'd had to change a filthy nappy since… since Halloween. Sirius faltered halfway up the stairs. He turned to look at his friend who had been sitting in the corner the whole time.

James's face remained blank and passive as it had been for the last month. Nothing it seemed could save him from the torment of losing Lily. He had apparently not moved during the entire scene at all. In fact, Sirius had serious doubts about whether he had seen anything since sitting. Sirius twisted around again. The Sirius serious jokes weren't the same without James, and as he felt a pang in his stomach he rather doubted he'd ever have a good name joke ever again.

James sat on the chair he'd been glued to for the last hour. His eyes staring blankly ahead, and his heart it seemed without beating.


	4. Limits to Depravity

"I don't anything! I swear! I know nothing, I say!" Harry yelped as his Godfather shot another hex at him. This one resulted in his hair turning another vibrant shade of green in addition to the nose sticking off of his elbow as Harry attempted to hop away due to the Leg-locker curse that Padfoot had gotten him with.

Sirius was still red with fury as he looked down at his godson. Remus was in the corner with his hands hiding his face. Harry attempted to look as innocent as an angel. Typically, this would have worked with his favorite "uncles", but it was obvious that this prank had crossed the line of letting him off.

Sirius glared him wrathfully. This was the payment he received for teaching the little tosser the fine art of pranks? Little bugger was going to have his comeuppance when the weekend came round. Still, Sirius thought the prank was well-executed just not on the right targets. Sirius considered the possibilities. There was always Snivellus and some ugly, old dog… The possibilities were endless considering how often they were in Hogwarts or Hogsmeade. With a final glare, he released Harry from the Leg-Locker spell.

Harry sighed in relief as the curse was lifted. Undoubtedly, he thought that he would be able to sneak away to let Pads cool off a little. That prank deserved a clap on the back for the amount of time and effort it took him to both make and execute. He deserved a pat on the back. Looking hopefully near the door, Harry was both shocked and pleased to see that his father had a growing smile on his face as he continued read. The man in question looked up at Sirius with a smile that Harry had seen only once before a very long time ago.

"Sirius," James began slowly and with a vicious, cold smile, "They've found _him_."

The room stilled. Remus and Harry looked shocked and unbelieving. Sirius however had a mixture of pain, anger, and sadness on his face. He was torn between the hope of seeing the rat die a slow, painful death and preventing his best friend from seeing such an event. James had progressively grown colder and more serious over the years, and this would not help. Sirius could remember most of the times that he had smiled in the past seven years, and he never laughed unless it seemed more like a cry. Sirius knew that they'd all tried. Remus with his careful scolding and mothering, Sirius with his attempts to make James leave the house to places other than Hogwarts or the _place_, and Harry, poor Harry, tried so hard to make James happy again.

Sirius looked over at the two of them. James, while still a good liking guy, had lost the spark of happiness and optimism that so defined him in his youth. Harry had inherited it all from the joking behavior to the lightness that seemed to define his behavior. Nearly all of Harry was James's likeness. Though sometimes, there was a gesture he made or a food that he liked that seemed so reminiscent of his mother. These he both loved and hated. She had loved all of them from the sweaty, training auror Sirius to the quiet, scholaristic Remus. He wasn't the only that noticed.

James seemed to have a preternatural sense to be around when Harry acted like her. He noticed the things that only she had seemed to do. The way her arms moved when she was excited or the expressions on her face that changed from one to another so quickly that James sometimes woke thinking that he had seen her the day before only to realize that Harry had made them. That he was not her. That she wasn't coming back.

James stood already reaching for his coat. His attention if it had been on Harry at all was already focused on the death of the betrayer. The boy slid from where he had been sitting near his father into a closer spot to Remus as James walked out the door. His gaze followed his father sadly as he marched down the path and disapparated just outside the fence. Sliding back to his uncles, he looked up gravely at them.

"Was Moony really that bad of a snog, Paddy?" He ran away quickly as multiple jinxes and hexes were thrown.


End file.
